


it’s felt like love all along

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band), Zeleanor
Genre: F/M, louis is extra, louis is like only mentioned and has like one line, one direction - Freeform, the smut aint even good i think, there is smut, zeleanor - Freeform, zeleanor is real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:52:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1782988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleanor could tell you her birthday. She could tell you how old her mother was. She could tell you how many hours there are in a day. She couldn’t tell you the moment she fell in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it’s felt like love all along

**Author's Note:**

> zeleanor is rea l

Eleanor could tell you her birthday. She could tell you how old her mother was. She could tell you how many hours there are in a day. She couldn’t tell you the moment she fell in love. It was warm. It was soft. And it was all at once. A crippling, overwhelming feeling that came over her.

 

She didn’t remember the first time she felt it, she just remembered feeling it. Watching him leave. Watching him in magazines with another woman. Watching him kiss someone else in public. It felt like a bolder settling itself on top of her heart.

She often wondered if it happened to him to. If this was a weekly occurrence for him as well. She wondered if seeing her with Louis made him paralyzed in his own pain like it did to her.

She knew it did on October 3rd of last year. She saw it. She saw him give Louis a look that meant hatred. Seething, burning, hot red hatred. It made her heart skip. Made it stutter in its own steps. She’d marked it down in her journal. The pink one. The one that she’d kept hidden and tucked away, for fear of anyone finding it.

The black one was for daily routines, and date keeping. General nonsense. The pink one was for Zayn. The one that really was personal. Zayn was hers, just like the journal.

She could re-read entries and want to smack herself. She didn’t always want to be like this.

‘Friday, June 13, 2014

Louis told me he thinks I should try going out with someone for real. He told me I was allowed if I didn’t tell the higher ups. I almost pissed myself.’

Today’s wasn’t much. She was thoroughly disappointed with herself. She sighed, slamming the journal shut and tossing it aside easily. It plops down onto her bed next to her, and she’s disappointed even more.

She wants a significant week. She wants to go out, and have a really great time. Or catch a marathon of her favorite sow, just fucking something to tell her, “its getting better, see”.

“It’s not”, another voice tells her. “It’s not, and it fucking sucks”. She knew they were right. The bad ones. The ones that saw reality. The ones that knew she hasn’t seen him in three weeks. The ones that knew she cried herself to sleep four nights in a row because the last thing she told him was to “get fucked” (and she regrets it). They know better.

So does she, though. She knows she needs to see things clearly, and get over it. But it’s tough when you’re lacking some or any sort of support system.

“Shut up.” She mumbles to herself quietly, in an almost condescending sort of way. Like she was talking to a five year old instead of herself. She stands up from her bed, and stretches out all of her bones and muscles, some of the bones popping sickly.

She reaches down and snatches a hair tie off of her small brown side table, and twists her freshly cut hair into a messy bun that slouches on the top of her head (Zayn calls it a nest). Eleanor sighs deeply before shoving her bathroom door open forcefully, letting it bang against the opposite wall, creating a harsh banging sound.

She grabs her toothbrush and lets the sink run while she pushes out a sizeable amount of toothpaste onto her brush. Her phone rumbles in her sweatpants pocket lightly, signaling a notification for her.

She tries to think to herself what the hell could’ve been important enough for her to mark down onto her calendar. Nothing comes to mind immediately. After about thirty seconds of misguided annoyance and irritated groans she gives in and reaches into her pocket to check.

Across the screen reads ‘Manchester show starts today Z home’. She had written that quickly and excitedly at the time. She remembers. Remembers him calling her and telling her when he’d be back in Manchester. She nearly peed herself.

And fuck. She’ll have to get dressed and go see them play, and probably have to stay after to get pictures of her and Louis together.

She swipes her screen, and blinks when it unlocks. She opens her messages and clicks on the most recent one. Before she thinks she types ‘I miss you xx’, and watches it send. “Fuck.” She mumbles after and she drops her phone onto the granite counter. It’s the truth. She didn’t want to fight about the fact that he’d be on tour again, she just wanted to cry about it to herself. But, when he said he knew she was upset she blew up.

She flinches as her phone shakes with vibration. She picks it up quickly and reads the new message. ‘I miss u too baby’. She rolls her eyes and pushes the phone away from her line of vision.

She tosses her toothbrush aside as well, giving up on it all. It’s the stupid fucking fight that has her mind. The things he said to her. The things she wanted to say back, but didn’t. She didn’t because she knows. She knows he didn’t mean what he was saying, she knows he loves her too, even though it hasn’t been said by either party.

+

She pushed through the large group of girls, saying polite things like “sorry”, “excuse me”, and “pardon me”. Her heart was racing and her stomach was lodged inside of her throat. It was the same crippling feeling that she was thinking about before.

The one.

She could feel her heart rate speed up, the closer she got. _What are you doing?_ , she asked herself. She couldn’t even reply with a numb, incoherent answer. She just kept shoving, and speed walking.

Once she got to the empty walkway to the back stage area, a large man recognized her and greeted her with a nice “Hi, Eleanor.” She nodded with a false smile, and waited as he moved over slightly for her to squeeze through. The black curtains brushing through her hair.

She stopped briefly. Looking around to take in her surroundings, trying to think of where to go next. Straight to Zayn? And do what? Stare at him awkwardly if there’s someone else in the room with him? No.

She needed a plan. One convincing thought to help her through this horrible, traumatic, time. She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes as well.

She looks around again, reassessing the situation at hand, and decides to just follow the sound of laughter and people.

She ends up with them all.

All of them sitting at a bunch of couches, playing some stupid video game, and she sees him.

Sees him hunched forward, controller in hand, and eyes focused on the large flat screen hanging up on the wall in front of him. Also Niall. Niall is playing with him. And Louis is sitting on the couch next to the one Zayn and Niall are sitting on, watching them play with loud laughs.

She releases air she didn’t even know she was holding in, and her legs move for her. She walks up next to Louis, standing next to him awkwardly, painfully.

He looks up, a large grin on his face. “Eleanor!” he shouts, dragging out the ‘or’ part. They all look over at the noise and she cringes. She literally cringes with, overwhelming, something. Overwhelming something. She cannot pinpoint exactly what. Fear? No. Embarrassment? Maybe.

He looks up at her, and his game pauses. “Eleanor.” He says quietly. Almost like he didn’t mean to. Like he didn’t want to. Like it was only for her to hear, no one else.

She smiles falsely and waves at Zayn and Niall. “Hi.” She says in reply. It’s slightly painful. Because he’s still staring. Because that’s not what she wanted to say. Because.

He watches her sit down next to Louis with this look. This look that isn’t angry. That isn’t sad. It’s the thing. The thing they haven’t said, the thing they might not want to.

And it hurts. It hurts in certain places that Eleanor doesn’t think should hurt. It hurts her in her eyes, and in her chest, and in the very pit of her stomach.

The look in her eyes might just match his, and that terrifies her. Terrifies her in every single way.

+

He walks in after her. Slowly, and delicately, almost like he thinks he’ll break the whole world around her if he’s not careful. She sets her keys down on the counter and he closes the door behind them softly, letting it click closed almost by itself.

“I’m sorry.” That’s the first thing she hears come out of his mouth. She forgave him before he said sorry. Forgave him right after the fight. Forgave him before the fight. Forgave him while he was saying all the things he said. She always would.

“I know.” She answers immediately. Like she put no thought into it. Like she was programmed to answer with that. Even though she knows that’s a shitty reply. “I forgive you.” She tacks on at the end, just in case he didn’t know.

She hears him take steps towards her, and she bites her lip as he runs his knuckles over her wrist softly. “I didn’t mean it, you know. I didn’t men any of it. I-I wouldn’t, wouldn’t leave you.” She turns back around to look at him now.

Her breath catches and she’s reunited with that same overwhelming feeling of _Zayn_. It’s just _Zayn_.

She searches his dark eyes for something, anything, she can possibly find. She finds the truth. So she decides to return it. She frowns. “You hurt me.” She whispers, something warm sliding down her face unexpectedly. And she feels deeply, and utterly betrayed by her own god damned body.

He sighs, and nods sternly, almost like he’s giving himself a lecture inside his head. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said those awful fucking things, El. I would never do those things, you know?” He looks up into her eyes, and it’s like this telepathic message was just sent between the two. Like a shock wave.

She leans her forehead against his, and takes in a refreshing whiff of him. He smells like a deeply saturated expensive cologne, and a hint of cigarette smoke lingers in there somewhere and he smells like him. The same smell that lingers in the other half of Eleanor’s bed.

Before she knows it she’s surging forward. She didn’t want to but she does. He breathes out through his nose, and she can feel it on her as their lips move together in a synchronized fashion.

They’re still as warm as they were three weeks ago.

Her heart pattered again as he pressed the rest of his body against hers, lining them together. It was overwhelming and familiar all at the same time. Almost like her brain was playing this horrible trick on her, almost like he wasn’t really there.

His hands wrapping up into her dark chestnut hair brought her back to this wonderful and tragic reality. She swallowed roughly before he pushed his mouth against hers a little harder, like he was testing the waters before he jumped in.

She opened her mouth first, allowing him to do as he wanted. He opened his in return, letting his tongue lick at hers intimately and slowly. So slow it was painful.

She whimpered in aggravation before licking back urgently. Like her life depended on it. He groaned in return, letting her push her pelvis roughly against his, trying to feel him in any way she could. She lets him pull her up onto the counter and wraps her legs around his waist in earnest.

“ _Zayn_.” She moans, letting him rub his hands over her clothed breasts tenderly, her nipples hardening in return. “Eleanor.” He answers swiftly, nipping at her bottom lip.

Her face screws up as his hands find themselves underneath her shirt this time, continuing to play with her breasts. “Room, room?” She mumbles against the pressure of his mouth on hers.

“Want to fuck you here.” He protests, moving his hands down to her hips, his fingers slipping inside of her jeans. They pull apart and she watches Zayn. Watches his eyes mostly as he smiles at her mischievously. Almost smirking.

Her mouth slackens when he reaches the front of her thin underwear, circling around her clit there. “Faster?” He asks quietly, and before she could answer he swirls his fingers around faster, feeling her get damp.

He leans in and licks her neck, choosing the spot her wants to mark, and biting down roughly after deciding.

She cries out sharply, not anything in particular, just a loud yelping type of sound. He smiles into her neck before yanking down her jeans and letting them bunch up at her ankles.

She reaches down tries to unzip his jeans, before giving up. She decides to just palm his hardening cock through his pants. He groans loudly, letting the sound ripple out of his throat so it sounds painful and rough.

She presses down and squeezes him tightly when she can see the outline of him more clearly. He shoves her hand away and grips onto her underwear tightly, and yanks them down, letting them join the ranks of her jeans.

He drops down to his knees unexpectedly, and Eleanor takes in a deep, shaky breath, letting her fingers card into his dark hair immediately. Her pulls her closer to him by her thighs and her pushes her legs apart as far as they’ll go, letting him see her wet pussy clearly.

He moves forward and situates his face in between her legs, letting out shallow breaths against her. She whimpers in anticipation and grips onto his hair tightly.

He licks a large strip on her pussy, and blows on it afterwards, making her shiver from the coolness of it. He licks inside of her, swirling his tongue around. She groans loudly as he reaches one of his hands up to join his face, letting one finger join his tongue inside of her.

“ _Zayn. Z-Zayn._ ” She whimpers quietly, tugging on his hair tighter. Her hums in reply, sending another shock through her body, all the way to her spine. “Fuck me. Fuck me please. Been-been too long.” He pulls his face out at her words.

“Three weeks too long, baby?” he asks sarcastically while rubbing her inner thighs tenderly. She nods all too eagerly, all too quickly. So quick she almost feels weak.

He yanks his jeans and briefs down before standing back up, and he groans deeply as he squeezes himself in earnest. She pulls him in for another open mouthed kiss, and he situates himself at her entrance.

She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, and her mouth drops open immediately at the tip of his cock pressing inside of her. Silence leaves her open mouth as her pushes a few more inches inside of her.

His hands move back up to her breasts to distract her. He pinches one of her nipples roughly, and tugs the nub between his index finger and his thumb. A moan leaves her mouth, as he finally settles himself inside of her completely.

He kisses down her neck as he pulls out slowly, and presses himself back inside her. “Fuck, so warm. So tight.” He praises her before thrusting inside of her again.

“Fuck, fuck me.” She commands, pulling her hips away from him and forcefully shoving them back against him. He moves his hands down to her thighs, and he presses down hard enough to bruise her.

He starts to fuck her roughly, knocking their bodies together every time they re-connect. The sound of their skin slapping together carried on throughout her apartment, along with the little ‘uhs’ and ‘ohs’ Eleanor let out every time Zayn's cock went back in her.

“You’re. So. Fucking. Big.” Eleanor moaned as Zayn slammed into her, and fuck she was close. So fucking close. Zayn moaned as she clenched her muscles tight around him. “ _Fuck_.” He replies, as she cums with a loud groan, and scratches the back of his neck roughly.

He yanks his cock out of her quickly, and starts tugging at himself immediately, not wanting to cum inside of her with no condom on.

He moans as white threads of cum shoot out of his cock and smear down Eleanor’s leg. She grabs a wash rag from the sink and wipes the cum off of her.

“I’m really sorry, baby.” Zayn says quietly, looking into her eyes again. She blinks up at him. “It’s okay.” She responds, not one clear thought going through her mind. Which is to be expected, really.

“No. It’s not. It’s not okay, and I’m a total fucking asshole.” He brushes a strand of hair out of her face and tucks it behind her ear sweetly, and honestly yes, Eleanor wants to agree with him, call him an asshole. But she can't. It’s always been that way.

She shakes her head in disagreement. “No. You’re not.” She pulls him towards her, wrapping him up in a hug, a tight one.

One that says, ‘you’re leaving in two days, and I'm going to miss you so much’, and ‘I really don’t want you to leave me’.

It’s bone-crushing and unnecessary but she needs this. Needs this feeling to last. The feeling of being safe and secure and wanted. She wants to keep this feeling locked up, so she can pull it out whenever she needs it and spread it over her like a blanket. Like a shield.

She didn’t hear it enter her mind before she said it, she didn’t hear it come out of her mouth when she said it either. But she hears Zayn say “I love you too.” And yeah, it’s felt like love all along. The crippling pain in her heart and the dropping in her stomach was this.


End file.
